


Growth Opportunity

by Boton



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Extra-Legal Entrepreneurism, Herbal Soothers, Humor, Kink Meme, Marijuana, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boton/pseuds/Boton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, there was this April Fool's post on the Kink Meme asking for animal fics in the Sherlock universe.  And I was feeling sassy and suggested we need more plant fics.  And then I was sassier, and I filled the thing.  </p><p>This is my own crack-tastic interpretation of what Mrs. Hudson is up to with 221C, and how she has such a steady supply of herbal soothers.</p><p>Rated T for mentions of recreational pharmaceuticals that may not be legal in your area.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growth Opportunity

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and his universe are the creation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock is the creation of the BBC and its partners, and of co-creators Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. This work is for my pleasure and that of my readers; I am not profiting from the intellectual property of those creators listed above.

“John, this isn’t working!” Sherlock exclaimed, leaning back from his stool at the kitchen counter and running his hands through his curls. “In order to replicate the effects of sunlight on the samples we gathered from the victim, I need to have a source of UV light that approximates that of sunlight! And this blasted cloud cover means I can’t conduct the experiment outside and duplicate the conditions at the scene.”

Just then, Mrs. Hudson stepped through the already-open door from the stairwell, carrying a plate of freshly-baked biscuits and wearing a prim dress sprigged with flowers. “You need a grow light, Sherlock. And a couple of these biscuits. I made them fresh, and you need to eat more.”

“A what, Mrs. Hudson?” Sherlock asked, swiveling to look at her.

“A biscuit, Sherlock,” she answered. “You can’t have deleted that; these are your favorite.”

“No, before the biscuit part,” he said, grabbing the sweet and popping it into his mouth.

“A grow bulb, Sherlock. Come along, I’ll get you one.”

Intrigued, Sherlock followed Mrs. Hudson as she exited the flat and started down the stairs, rubbing absently at her bad hip. John shrugged and got up to follow.

Mrs. Hudson led the boys down to 221C. The smell of damp was faint in the air, and the key stuck a bit in the lock as she opened it. The trio entered the main lounge; it was dim, with peeling wall paper and well-worn carpet, looking very much like the day they found Carl Powers’ shoes in the middle of the floor.

“What does this have to do with…” John started, but Mrs. Hudson shushed him, leading to the single back bedroom in the flat. She opened the door.

All at once, a brilliant light flooded out from the doorway as Mrs. Hudson stepped aside. John and Sherlock looked inside to see row after row of marijuana plants, all carefully tagged with variety and propagation date. Banks of grow lights hung overhead, suspended on chains so that they could be kept a precise distance above the growing plants, and bottles of liquid fertilizer lined the walls. A small table in the corner held a pair of trimmers and a box of small plastic bags.

Mrs. Hudson walked to the small closet and returned with a grow bulb. She handed it to Sherlock.

“Here you are dear.”

For once, Sherlock had nothing to say and instead looked blankly at Mrs. Hudson.

“Well, what did you think, dear?” Mrs. Hudson asked. “I can’t very well afford to own a property in Central London and leave one flat unleased and give the other one to you at a discount, now can I?”

She shooed the boys from the room, closed the door, and hastened them from the flat, which she carefully locked. “It does wonders for my hip,” she said, starting to head back to her own flat. “Now, be dears and wash that plate before you bring it back once the biscuits are gone. I’m not your housekeeper, you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, marijuana is not legal in all areas, and I feel obliged by my sense of responsibility to tell you that this fic is not an endorsement of its use. Please check your local laws. And please don't take your cues for proper behavior from fan fiction!


End file.
